


Sam the Wildman

by heavenorspace



Category: Glee
Genre: Blane Anderson - Freeform, F/M, Female Blaine, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenorspace/pseuds/heavenorspace
Summary: Blane is from the city's high society. Sam toils in the field and woods and has a huge dick. The latter point helps them cross the great societal divide.(please observe this is cisgirl!Blane, do not read if not your thing)





	

[Smutty nsfw art for this piece [here](http://fancyforafeeling.tumblr.com/post/157008244319/blane-and-sam-from-my-latest-offering-of-strange)]  
  
“Oh Sam! Where are you, Sam?”

Blane drew her robe closer against the cool night breeze. The Wildmen were known to work their fields after sundown during the hot summer months, and this surely was Sam’s pasture. She had seen him here many times as she drove by in the lanes at a safe distance in her phaeton.

A figure emerged from the bordering trees, just feet from where she stood. A young man: blonde hair and lightly tanned skin already damp with sweat, looking around in charming confusion at the sound of a solitary female voice speaking in the High dialect. He finally found her own small curved form: bare flesh visible beneath the thin silk of her fluttering robe and hair as black as pitch cascading over soft shoulders.

Blue eyes grew wide as the naked young man was rooted to the spot, his dick swelling even as he seemed tempted to run.

“Stop!” came the imperious fair cry as Blane hurried across the lush grasses. Sam stood transfixed as two small hands were thrown up about his neck and an overwhelming swell of breasts pressed naked and hot against him. The girl was too small to bow his neck but she wriggled and pressed so insistently that Sam’s clumsy feet stumbled and pitched him backwards, the coaxing maid rolling atop.

~

It was not so much as never that a pure young lady from the height of city society should tumble naked with abandon on top of a Wildman among the weeds and field flowers. Blane was no less extraordinary among her locale in her current choice of beau than in her dark, glossy, golden-skinned beauty. Among the dour, slender female forms of her teenage companions who were born to the country, this round and sensual girl was brought by her natural father to live, with her mother, among his kinfolk. It was the mixed pride and mortification of her parents that she flew gaily against the stricter customs of her new home. Though as a daughter she was dutiful, as a wife she held promise that many a young squire desired, and as a mother she longed to be loving and wise. Yet for a beautiful maiden of barely sixteen, her stout heart, strong mind and amorous passions were equally beguiling and terrifying.

Chief among her affronts to the High Society of which her father was an estimable personage, was her interest in the Wildmen of the forests and fields. Such men of lower rank as were fit and strong but unable or unwilling toward any trade or hope of rising in society, and the city requiring no militia during times of peace, were placed in small land holdings outside the city to work and live simply. With hardy lives and fit bodies often scantily clothed as they had, they were the secret fantasy of the ladies who passed through in carriages on their way to and from the city. Rumors were known to crop up of ladies, attended by maids and a yeoman such as could be trusted for protection, slipping beyond the city gates; usually when such lady had spent many months in wedlock but without producing a child. The Wildmen never knew how many hearty, fair-haired boys and girls passed them by or came begging for wild flowers which the men happily gave, often to their own issue.

Blane’s heart was moved by the honest worthiness of these men. They were neither gentlemanly nor clever, but their eyes were kind and their rough speech was poetry in it’s own way. She knew that they beheld her in amusingly plain wonder and adoration. Her large eyes sparkled gold beneath inky lashes, her dusky-rose face was eternally formed into a bee-stung kiss. The littleness of her generously curved figure seemed ready to break it’s confines of silk and lace. It never happened that a visit or ball took place among gentlemen in which all eyes and hearts were untouched by the wild black curls escaping Blane’s headdress, or the perilous overflowing of breast as she danced.

Yet no matter how many a burning kiss was teased from them by her, no man of the city’s passions could satisfy the ravenous beating of Blane’s heart from within a corset tied viciously tight by a disapproving ladies maid. Blane knew she was a morsel, a dainty beyond any taste of fine men and their fine ways.

‘Fucking’, was the low word for it. Almost without love and almost as if uncaring of her life. Her sex consumed her maidenhood and tore at the finery that hid a silkier skin and rose-red nipples in agony of neglect. She wanted not a gentleman to court and lead her through the finest days of her life. She wanted a man who would let the storm of her rage in splendor, and cast her into ruin on his body and destroy her at each stroke, only to breathe life into her again.

She wanted to be **devoured**.

Thus explaining her current daring with the unwitting Sam.

Though it was not merely for profane desire that she risked so much to be held in his arms. A something in his eyes and his posture as she had watched him in passing piqued her curiosity. Her quick discernment perceived that this young man was dissatisfied – resentful, even – of his life. It was the usual disposition of the Wildmen which gave comfort and happiness in an existence without refinement or modern comforts. Not so with young Sam.

Through a circuitous route of maids and servants, Blane had obtained knowledge that while dissatisfaction was far from common in the Wilds, there was the occasional unfortunate case. In Sam’s, a numerous family of sons (and himself not the eldest) in an unprosperous family had led to his voluntary removal to the life of a Wildman in order to spare his younger siblings from further want. He was by no means a clever boy and showed nothing but a deep fondness for music, but such a profession was beyond his sphere. Yet a life away from society and culture was simply not for him.

Blane decided that Sam was quite perfect. She could readily perceive his ability to satisfy her and that he otherwise would be a pliable and easy husband. To him she would go and brook no refusal.

~

Gathering his limbs into order, Sam made to pull himself free of the lady, and yet free of him she would not go. Flinging open her robe, she lay flushed naked and panting for him.

He could not but react to such an invitation nor stop his hands from cautiously touching the warm softness of her. One soft hand snuck between them and found his sex, tremulous and searching at first but stroking him more firmly. For all that Sam was not at home in the Wilds, his body had matured far from a knowledge of rules and restraint. When a lady invited a Wildman to have her, laid herself at his door, there was but one natural conclusion.

Sam’s kisses were the promise of everything Blane wanted: slick, overpowering, almost bestial. He kissed her mouth as he kissed her cheek, her throat, her shoulder. He tasted and sucked and licked. He clutched at a handful of one breast and enveloped the nipple in his mouth. He was so unabashedly delighted with the fullness and excessive proportion of her breasts that she regarded him fondly even through her rising heat. Nestling his dick against the plush softness of her belly, he reveled in the tender weight of her rump in his hands as he gloried in feeling velvety breasts across his face and mouth, catching the nipples as the slipped by. She was like a fresh spring fruit shaped as a woman and he wanted to break her and taste her deep and wet.

This was bliss entirely unknown to Blane. Sam’s devouring continued over her sensitive thighs and ravished her pussy. With a helpless tremor, she felt heat wash over her and swooned.

The taste and feel of the climax was extraordinary to Sam. He rose up and maneuvered the limp little figure by her hips to receive him. The entry was painfully tight but also slicked, and the girl’s eyes blinked with consciousness again.

There was no sharp pain as she had been told to expect, merely a feeling of ache and the occasional wince at the stretch. The more she felt of him inside, the more she became aware of precisely where she needed him.

Sam gave up his body to the thick root of him pressing against a burning hot center of woman. Such pride and victory of seizing her deep where he could keep a part of himself to grow. No poetry or sacred notions of progeny or union. An uncontrolled need to take and claim now that he found himself in this precious place.

Blane watched her wild lover as he moved his hips and closed his eyes to better experience her. His movements changed to slow, measuring thrusts that made her keen and twist her head about on the grass. She knew when it truly began; Sam’s eyes slightly opened and fixed on the mid-distance as he positioned himself with hands beside her head and her hips lifted up against his. He tested by a few deep, profound strokes into her. Then his desire was cut loose and the violently insistent pounding began.

Blane cried out again and again in desperate relief. She was a fallen petal, crushed and bruised into exquisite tenderness beneath him. Her body felt light and fluttering, like being burned and cast upon the wind. There was nothing to her but where she opened to receive him; no pain, no consciousness, no worries or restraints. She was remade upon him as an altar for his desperation and painful need.

She felt him becoming frantic and swollen. He felt her yield further in response. His bellows and her cries shattered the stillness for miles, declaring what they both hoped was the beginning of life.

He savored the release and the triumph indulgently, remaining pressed deep against her, keeping all of himself within. Creeping within his heart was a foil to the corporeal exhilaration. An awareness that the intimacy and promise of this moment would not last. He would not see what he had given bear fruit. It made him finally bow his head and remove himself. The lady was done. She would be gone.

Except that this lady seemed uninterested in leaving him. Rather than gathering herself together and rushing away in shame, the girl who somehow knew his name threw herself across him where he lay and began billing and cooing in contentment.

“My name is Blane Anderson, young Sam Wildman,” came the extraordinary declaration. She rose up on him, chest to chest, looking at his face complacently. “Won’t you return with me to the city and make me your wife, as you have made me the mother of your child?”

Poor Sam’s alarm heightened to a panic at this. “Dear woman, I have never been with you before this night! If you intend to take me for a fool –“

Blane laughed in high amusement. “Oh, sweet wild Sam! You’re far more clever than your lot in life would suggest! No, dear boy. I only refer to the child I must now bear inside me, a gift of life from your remarkable manhood.”

Sam was no more relieved than he was shocked at this fine lady’s way of talking. “So it was your intent in coming here to get a baby from me and ask me to join you as husband?”

“Well, I admit to some double intent, but not so far as to compromise you into being my husband. Really though, would it be so bad to move back to the city and live with me in my family’s home as my husband? You could be near your family and give me as many children as I wish. My family has heaps of money, you would never need to work.”

“My family?” Sam asked, eyes widening in hope. “I could see my family? And we could help them?”

Blane preened at the nearing of her conquest. “Of course we would, sweet young man! Papa lets me have anything I want and Mama is only eager that I obtain a good husband. I shall provide you with proper clothes and we can have the whole business completed tomorrow,” the minx continued on, petting away Sam’s apprehensions with a press of her silky thigh and pecking kisses against his lips.

“Won’t your parents know that I put a baby in you before I asked to marry you?”

Blane shrugged a round cheek against her shoulder in disregard. “La! I can have us at the altar within a week. Who could tell the difference when it will be ages before I get big. So, will you agree to it?”

Her prey seemed to hesitate for a moment and caused her some alarm. Then a roguish grin spread over his handsome face, and she cried out against such teasing.

“Shall I carry you over my shoulder and demand permission from your parents, or take you directly to your bed and let them find me as your lover?”

Blane’s eyes sparkled daringly. “And so what if they did? Or perhaps you could return to my home with me in your arms, exhausted after making love until dawn?”

Sam grinned and rolled them both until he held her open to him once again.

“Be thankful I am not one of your fine gentleman, for I can fulfill such a promise, dear lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> As is my infuriating wont, I always plan to continue with my stories and develop them into verses. I am extremely bad at following up on that, so it's probably safest to treat this as a one-shot.


End file.
